Just a Bride
by Aline Riva
Summary: The night before leaving Southampton to board Titanic, Rose, distraught at the prospect of marrying a man she does not love, turns to an older man for consolation - but that man is Spicer Lovejoy, Cal Hockley's valet... ONE-SHOT. Pairing: Rose/Lovejoy


**Author Summary:**

**This story is set before Rose and Cal arrive at Southampton to board the Titanic – Rose is very much aware that marrying Cal, while saving her mother from a life of financial hardship, will certainly end any hopes she has of having an independent life where she is free to make her own choices.**

**Being young and seeing how much of her life stretches a head of her, Rose feels trapped by the loveless marriage she is being forced into with Cal Hockley.**

**And while Cal looks forward to taking her home to be his bride on the finest ship in the world, Rose wonders about all she will be giving him – including her virginity...**

**Then she sees a last chance to rebel against her fate which seems so sealed when she seizes the chance to discover what real desire and fulfilment is like – in the arms of the last person Cal would ever suspect, his valet and bodyguard Spicer Lovejoy...**

**** This is my first Titanic story, it is set BEFORE the ship sails and looks at the possibility that Rose may have seized the chance to turn to an older man for comfort because she was distraught at the prospect of her arranged marriage – and the man she chose was Spicer Lovejoy.****

* * *

**This story is a one-shot, and Rated T.**

* * *

Just a Bride

_It was raining. _

It was a cold, harsh day and the rain that hit the glass and ran like tears down the window pane only served to remind her of what fate had in store.

Rose had been counting down the days until they left for Southampton to board the ship that would take her away to a new life, a life she did not want, with the man who her mother insisted was a good match...

_What the hell did that mean any way?_

_What about love, friendship, mutual affection?_

_What about compatibility?_

It seemed that none of these things mattered – only that her mother be spared the nose-bleed inducing fear that she might end up working as a seamstress because all her late husband had left her was a string of debts tied to a good family name.

_It was all about preserving status no matter the cost._

_And to her mother, it was the natural course of action._

But to Rose, being young enough to feel like she was still a girl yet to become a woman and explore world that she seemed to have laid at her feet, it was her worst nightmare because it did not matter to her that Cal was wealthy, handsome and considered a highly eligible bachelor:

_She simply did not love him._

To mention a word like _Love_ to her mother would have resulted in the kind of anger that she feared deep in her heart; it would hurt too much to see her eyes turn like ice as she gave an accusing, hurtful look as if she had condemned her to a life which she so feared simply because she felt sick in her heart at the prospect of marrying for money and the status it would secure.

There had been times when the thought of marriage to Cal made her feel like she was trapped and suffocating with no way out but to end her life- she had tried to dash away those dark thoughts when ever they crept up on her, but those thoughts seemed to linger more with every passing day.

And as the rain fell and she watched it run down the glass, Rose felt thankful she had made an excuse to go to her room - headaches were such useful things to a woman; they could be used for such a variety of excuses – but for her all the excuse had bought her was one more night sure of the fact that Cal would leave her be, at least for now...

He had already made it clear he had no intention of waiting until marriage to exercise his right to share her bed; the moment he had said that all trace of the hope she had clung to, the glimpse she had seen of a romantic sparkle in his eyes that had suggested perhaps he would be a gentleman about this, was instantly gone.

Cal was not a gentleman, not in the true sense of the word. He saw her as yet another possession to own, to keep all to himself.

_She felt as if her life would end the day he put the wedding ring on her finger._

They were all here together; her mother, Cal too...but thankfully due to her mother's presence in the room across the hall, Cal Hockley would _not_ be knocking on the door when it grew dark, because he was aware that her mother was close by.

They were staying in a fine hotel.

And tomorrow, they would take the carriage just a few miles distance away and then reach Southampton...

The more she thought about it, the more she felt like her life was coming to a close in every way.

Then as Rose sat in her room, alone at the dressing table, she watched as more rain trickled down the window and she thought about how it seemed her life was being consumed by water – if the sky was not crying in sympathy with her, surely the ocean that would surround her as she sailed away on Titanic would consume her, swallowing up any hope of changing her fate –there would be nothing on the horizon:

_Nothing but water._

Suddenly she pictured herself climbing over the rail and maybe hanging on for a few moments, perhaps she would shed tears at the thought of death, at the thought of denying herself life because it had come to this...

_What would it be like, to drown?_

In her youthful romantic head she envisioned herself taking one last gasp and sinking, swallowed by the sea, that cold, heavy deep water that would take her life would also deny Cal the chance to own her life... it would be frightening to let go and jump, but death was supposed to be quick and painless by drowning, wasn't it? She was sure in every tragic love story she had ever read, if the heroine died it was always a peaceful slide into an eternal rest.

_Was death really that painless?_

_And afterwards, what would her mother say?_

She would be distraught no doubt – _but probably much more disturbed at the thought that the only hope to secure her comfortable life and status in society was now at the bottom of the ocean..._

Rose gave a sigh and looked into the mirror that stood on her dressing table.

_She glanced down at her hairbrush and as her hand hovered over it, she thought about picking up that brush and smashing it into the glass._

_She wished she could break everything, because she felt broken by her life and everything that she wished she could change seemed so immoveable..._

_Her own thoughts were disturbing her._

She took a deep breath, thankful to be out of her hated corset and able to do so.

Rose had resigned herself to being alone until tomorrow; she had left instruction that she was not to be disturbed and she had changed into her nightgown and put on a long silken robe over it.

She had not planned her last day before leaving to embark upon a journey that would see the end of her freedom to be spent like this, but total solitude was the only way she could think of to try and get a grasp on her feelings.

It was difficult to accept a situation that she did not want because it was consuming her and she had no control...

But she still had control for this day, this night – and the more Rose thought about it, the more thoughts of a certain man came warmly to her and she started to smile:

_Spicer Lovejoy. _

He was Cal's valet and bodyguard, a tall and distinguished man who Rose had felt instantly drawn to although at first she couldn't fathom why; then she thought about it deeply and it rapidly became the kind of thought that made her smile as she lay alone in bed in the darkness:

_If only she could know the touch of a man who was older, wiser than Cal- no doubt more understanding, too. _

_He struck her as the kind of man to be a real gentleman; he had an air about him as if he still carried the Victorian age about him as sure as he carried himself with such confidence._

_She had looked at him often since they had met. _

She had smiled often too, and finally, Mr Lovejoy had smiled back. The smile had been brief, the glance for a fraction of a second, but in that second Rose had drawn in a sharp breath as her face turned hot and she felt a bolt of pleasure shoot through her body as she wondered what it would be like to take him to her bed...

The feeling had shaken her in a pleasant way; she had never known _those_ kinds of feelings before, not _inside_ her body...

It was as if her body was crying out to know another man, a better, more understanding man and to know him at least once, just so that she could have a memory of a lover other than Cal when he finally took her as his bride...

Rose's thoughts switched from the lover in her fantasies to the reality of the situation as she wondered; would she _really_ drown herself rather than marry Cal?

The answer, she feared, was _Yes._

She shoved the thoughts away, the ones that frightened her, then thought again about Mr Lovejoy:

Perhaps if she could talk to him, be alone with him – perhaps even just doing that would ease her anxieties a fraction...

_She knew there was only one way to find out..._

* * *

Rose was considering getting dressed again when she heard voices in the hallway.

She hurried to the door and listened.

She heard Cal telling Lovejoy what he was planning to pack and where exactly he needed it placed, then he announced that he was going down to the bar for a while.

Rose listened harder, as her heart raced she slowly opened the door an inch and peered out.

Cal was gone downstairs now.

Lovejoy was unlocking Cal's room.

Rose did not know where her mother was; she guessed she would no doubt be downstairs, probably speaking to other well to do guests about her daughter's society wedding that was planned to take place when they had crossed the ocean on Titanic. She took the gamble that she was right about this and opened the door a little wider, taking in a breath and making her voice heard and doing a fine job of disguising just how nervous she really was.

"Mr Lovejoy?"

He had pushed open Cal's door, but on seeing Rose, he closed the door once more, turned the key and then put the key in his pocket.

Rose felt her mouth go dry; he was walking up the hallway towards her now...

"Yes, Miss Dewitt-Bukater, may I be of assistance?" He asked her.

And Rose looked up at him, wondering about it..._would_ he be dependable?

She thought so; he was loyal to Cal, he relied upon him, why should he not _also_ be loyal to her, at _least _in a way of friendship if she extended the chance to him?

"Is there something I can do for you?" He wondered, "Did you want me to give a message to Mr Hockley?"

Rose's eyes widened.

"No!" She said, a little too sharply, and Lovejoy regarded her with mild suspicion.

"Then what ever is the matter?" He said calmly, "You look as if the hotel might be on fire but that certainly is not the case, is it?"

And he gave her a trace of a smile.

She thought about the way he made her feel and she was sure her face had turned very red.

Suddenly it was difficult to express into words the thoughts that had flowed so freely through her mind; she felt awkward and tongue tied and this only served to remind her that every time she thought she knew everything she realized she did _not_ because she was young, she lacked experience of life and it frustrated her as well as made her feel like she was in a life where everything, _everything_ she tried to do for the sake of her own happiness just led her into another blind alley - this was new, dangerous ground.

_She did not know what she was doing or where it would lead..._

She took in another breath as she remained aware that her heart was fluttering in her chest, making her think of trapped butterflies:

_What happened if a butterfly was trapped too long? It died, didn't it? _

Those thoughts were tracking her darkly again; sliding up on her as if she couldn't leave it alone, the ideas revolved like a dance with death as they crept back into her mind.

She pushed the thoughts away and focussed on the moment, figuring the future would be dark enough to handle no matter what came along tomorrow...

"No, I dont need to speak to Cal." She said, looking down at the carpet as she wished her face would stop flushing.

Then she looked up at him again.

"I need to speak with _you_." She said nervously, and stepped back, opening her door a little wider, inviting him in by the gesture.

Lovejoy stepped into the room and Rose shut the door again, then they stood together, in her room, in private, and as she looked into his blue eyes and wondered if she could feel a degree of the safety she so craved in the arms of this older man, she felt utterly powerless to express her feelings into words.

Instead, she gave a sob.

"I am _so_ unhappy!" She said quietly as her voice choked with tears, _"I...I just needed to speak to someone who..."_

Then as she looked up at him her reddened eyes grew fearful.

_"Please don't tell Cal!"_

Lovejoy's response was impossible to read; he remained so aloof and composed.

"Are you _sure_ this is a matter you need to be speaking to me about, Miss –"

"Call me Rose." She said quickly, and then she managed a smile.

"I'd like you to do that. And I just wanted to talk to you because I barely know Cal and I will be sending the rest of my life with him and I can not fight that _but_ –"

He looked down at his arm, at the way Rose was gripping it, then he looked at her face once more but made no attempt to lift her hand from him.

Rose took in another breath.

"But... I am _lonely,_ Mr Lovejoy. I wish I had known..._more_ than I shall know by going from the threshold of my adult life and straght into a marriage, can you understand that?"

Her other hand was o him now, she had her hands placed on both his arms, pressing through the jacket of his dank suit as she looked into his eyes.

_"I wish I could know more, even a brief glimpse of how safe and warm I could feel if..."_

She needed no more words.

Lovejoy's expression changed as his eyes softened as he looked at her, then that softness darkened into something else that she could not read.

"You thought perhaps an older man could understand this?" He said quietly as his gaze did not stray from her own, "I see... and I am flattered. _And I must leave you now_. It is _highly _improper for us to be alone together like this Miss - _Rose_." He said, remembering she had asked him to call her by her first name.

Then he stepped back and she let go of him, blinking away tears as she felt like a fool for even thinking for a second that he would have accepted her advances.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, "I apologize for my actions..."

Lovejoy had reached the door.

He turned back and smiled thoughtfully.

"No need for apologies." He assured her, "No need at all, Rose..."

_And then he was gone._

Rose sat down on the chair by her dressing table and gave a heavy sigh; she had hoped he would have understood, but no – he had no intention of offering her _any_ kind of affection, he had made that fact plain as day...

* * *

_It was still raining when night fell_.

Now the rain was heavier and Rose could barely sleep for the sound it made, as if a constant drumming against the window pane tapped inside her head, prodding her to stay awake as if to remind her this was the last night she would be sure that Cal would leave her be; the time was moving close to midnight and she had lain awake listening to sounds outside her door for quite a while.

Cal had gone back to his own room a while ago; she had heard him speak to Lovejoy and as Lovejoy replied she had felt an ache as she wished his arms were around her. He was who she needed right here and now; an older man, a man who knew what he was going, a man who could make her safe if not forever then at least to give her safe harbour from this storm for a brief time only...

But the rain continued to fall and she listened to it, looking around the room lit up by silvery moonlight that brightened up a little more as the rain fell softer as the heavy clouds began to drift.

Then she sat up in bed, catching her breath as she heard the unmistakeable sound of a key being turned in the lock.

She stared at door handle as it turned, knowing it was too late to brace the door with a chair to deter him...

_She wasn't ready for this – she wasn't ready to give everything to Cal, especially not her virginity..._

Then as the moon was blocked by a rain cloud the room plunged into darkness and she gave another gasp as she heard the door open, then close and the bolt was slid firmly shut on the inside.

She drew in a frightened breath as a shadowy figure approached her bed.

She half expected Cal to take hold of her, stinking of brandy and too drunk to handle her gently.

_But instead he sat down on the bed and reached out his hand and ran it gently over her flame red hair._

His fingertips stroked her cheek as soft as feathers, and then he slid his arms around her and pulled her closer, kissing her firmly, deeply and then letting go once more.

And the moon came back from behind the cloud and the room was lit by silver and in that silver light Rose saw the man who sat beside her on the bed and she stared in surprise:

_Her visitor was not Cal. The man who sat beside her was Spicer Lovejoy..._

"Cal persuaded the hotel staff to provide him with a spare key to your room." He said quietly, "And _I_ persuaded Cal that you were feeling quite unwell and offered to return the key at once..."

And then he smiled and so did Rose.

_"Make me feel safe."_ She whispered.

She wanted to say more but as he got onto the bed and pulled the covers back, she was hushed by soft kisses, then his hands were on her shoulders and sliding her night gown off her body.

His touch over her bare flesh made her gasp softly but the sounds she made as he touched her for the first time were lost against the sound of the rain falling harder outside once more.

_"Show me what it's like to be loved..."_ She whispered as her voice trembled; she felt like her body was alight with desire.

Spicer Lovejoy had the gentlest touch; he handled her with such tenderness and she wished every second could last and last, she wanted to take the memory of this night with her and save it forever, put it away like a keepsake that she could return to and feel and touch the moments again, just to remember what this night had been like...

As she reached for his shirt to pull at the buttons, he stopped her, taking her wrists and gently pinning them down with one hand as his other hand moved lower, briefly touched her thighs, then he moved his hand higher and she gave a sharp gasp as she felt a wave of pleasure run through her with a suddenness she had not expected; then he looked into her eyes and as his hand slid over the curves of her body, he briefly spoke in a low, slightly breathless voice that was edged with impatience:  
"Rose I can't get undressed. I have to leave soon- I can not spend the night with you, it is simply too dangerous."

And Rose felt a twinge of regret on hearing that; she had wanted to undress him, then run her hands over his body, to touch and kiss him in the way that he had done to her- but it was not to be; the longer he stayed the more the risk grew that they could be discovered together...

_"I know that."_ She said softly as she looked into his eyes and ran her hands over his shoulders.

His hand moved downwards briefly and she heard him unbuckle his belt.

The whole of her body tensed as she wondered what it would feel like- making love for the first time was supposed to hurt, wasn't it?

Would she bleed?

_This was all new ground._

_Rose knew nothing..._

Lovejoy looked into her eyes as he held her tightly and for the moment he did that, Rose felt safe in the arms of this older man, she gave no thought to anything beyond this night.

And then he thrust against her, firmly, silently, and Rose took in a sharp breath, feeling a moment of pain as he began to make love to her.

Then she clung to him and he kissed her, held her and he did not let go.

The pain she felt faded into pleasure and as he drew back from her he suddenly gave a soft gasp as his own pleasure was spent, warm and wet upon her naked body, then Rose reached for him again trembling with the intensity of all she had experienced.

_"Don't go."_ She whispered in the dark.

But Spicer Lovejoy got up and turned his back, adjusted his clothing, ran his fingers through his hair and then glanced back at her.

"You will see me again?" She said hopefully, "I can't imagine a life with Cal, not any more, not after this!

"I'll see you in the morning." Lovejoy promised her, and she saw warmth in his eyes and seeing that warmth gave her a spark of hope at last.

* * *

Rose woke early in the morning and felt painfully alone.

She thought of Lovejoy and ached to be held by him again, then she got up and washed away a trace of blood and as she did so she felt a vague ache that turned back into longings for pleasure once more.

She wondered if he would plan to take her away from this situation, he had said, he would see her in the morning...

_Suddenly the new day did not fill her with dread._

Rose waited, only admitting Trudy to her room a while later to allow her to help her dress, then she asked her to leave her be until the carriage was ready to leave for the journey to Southampton.

_And while she waited, she lived in hope..._

* * *

Finally, as Rose stood before the mirror and carefully positioned her splendid hat, she heard a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" She called out as her heart began to flutter.

Her hopes rose up as she heard his voice.

"_It's Mr Lovejoy."_

Rose opened the door and looked up at him, glowing with the memory of all they had shared and lifted up in spirits by the hope everything would be all right now because he loved her, he wanted her as she wanted him and they could be together, they_ would_ be... She was sure of it.

"What are we going to do?" She asked him.

"Come downstairs with me." Lovejoy said softly.

The warmth was still there in his eyes and as she walked beside him she wondered if he might be planning to make a get away now – _the carriage would be here by now, perhaps he had plans for the two of them to sneak off and leave her mother and Cal behind..._

"I'm _so_ glad you want to do this!" Rose said to him as they left the staircase and walked towards the doors, leaving the hotel together.

Lovejoy glanced at her and smiled, and then he opened the carriage door, offering her his hand as he helped her into the carriage.

Rose sat down and Lovejoy slammed it shut.

Then Rose's smile faded as all hopes of escape were dashed away as sure as the closing of that carriage door might as well have been the slam of a door to a prison cell:

_Her mother and Cal were also in the carriage..._

Rose looked through the open window at Lovejoy, who seemed unmoved by the flicker of hurt in her eyes.

"I'll just fetch your bags, Miss Dewitt-Bukater." Was all he said, and then he turned back to the hotel.

Rose felt a sting of anger, of loss, then the deepest pain at the dashing away of the last of her hopes of escape; but what _else_ could she have expected?

_Of course Lovejoy's first loyalty was to Cal._

_He would always remain loyal._

_It did not make him less of a man in the sense that he wanted (and indeed took) things the way other men did, but he was not prepared to throw away his employment for the sake of taking Cal's bride away from him..._

Rose thought about what she had said to him and as Cal spoke about his excitement to be sailing on Titanic, she blinked away tears as she looked out of the window.

She did not want to feel used or betrayed:

_Lovejoy had never promised her anything but the comfort she had asked for..._

"And I'm SO thrilled to think of you at my side, us sailing together on the finest ship in the world, " Cal said to Rose, "Here we are, myself and my beautiful, virgin bride..."

And finally Rose managed the ghost of a smile.

"_Just a bride."_ She murmured.

Cal leaned forward and looked at her.

"I didn't quite catch that..."

Rose looked back at the man she did not love and forced a big smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"_I said,"_ She told him, _"Your love for me fills me with pride."_

And then she looked out of the window again as the carriage began to move, feeling comforted to know that she had learnt what passion felt like, even for one brief night only - and it didn't matter now, Cal would _never_ be able to claim everything from her...because he could not take what was already gone:

_She still had to be his bride, but she was no virgin..._

That thought brought her some consolation as the carriage moved onwards, along the road that led to Southampton dock, the road that would lead to Titanic.

The End.


End file.
